Chapter 59

Chapter 59
Lyla’s POV

The moment Rowan fell, the world seemed to tear apart.

One heartbeat he was standing, bloodied but unbroken and the next he staggered, his body twisting like the ground had been ripped out beneath him. The roar of the crowd became a single, endless sound, a wave crashing in my ears as I ran.

“Rowan!” His name tore from my throat before I even realized I’d spoken.

I pushed through the warriors, through the stunned silence of the pack. The air was thick with dust and the metallic scent of blood. Kaiden was still on his knees, clutching his bruised neck, eyes dark with fury but all I could see was Rowan’s body slumped against the dirt, his skin pale beneath the gray morning light.

“Step back!” one of the healers shouted, but I didn’t listen. I fell to my knees beside him. His pulse was there; weak, fluttering. His breathing shallow. His lips were tinged with a faint blue.

“Please,” I whispered, pressing my trembling hands to his chest. “Don’t do this… not you too.”

The healers rushed forward, lifting him onto a stretcher. I followed, refusing to leave, my heart hammering against my ribs. Dalia’s voice cut through the noise behind me, sharp and shrill.

“Get her away from him!”

I ignored her.

They carried him into the infirmary, the door slamming behind us. The world outside dissolved into chaos; Kaiden’s men dragged away, the elders shouting orders, the pack’s whispers rising like a storm but inside, everything slowed to the rhythm of his shallow breaths.

Hours passed.

The healers worked tirelessly, but nothing seemed to help. Whatever poison had entered his system burned through him with cruel precision, spreading dark veins along his shoulder and neck. His body shivered under the fever. The smell of herbs and smoke filled the room, but nothing masked the scent of death creeping close.

I sat at his bedside, holding a damp cloth to his forehead. He murmured occasionally, half-formed words, my name once or twice, then silence.

Mrs. Beans and Ella came and went quietly, bringing broth I couldn’t eat. Even Dalia visited once, her face composed and perfect, eyes glistening with performative worry. She lingered just long enough for the elders to see, then disappeared again.

Only Damon stayed longer.

He stood at the far end of the room, arms folded, watching. His expression was unreadable. When our eyes met, he offered a faint, tired smile.

“He’ll make it,” he said softly. “He always does.”

I wanted to believe that. But every time I looked at Rowan, I saw how pale he’d become, how his breathing rasped. I felt something deep in me fracture, the same ache that had started the day Kaiden destroyed my life. But this was worse, because now it wasn’t just pain. It was fear.

I couldn’t lose him too.



Sometime near midnight, the healers left to rest, and Damon approached. The dim light from the lanterns caught the angles of his face, softening them. He knelt beside me, brushing his fingers lightly over my wrist.

“You need to sleep,” he murmured. “You’ve been here all day.”

“I can’t.”

“You’ll collapse.”

I looked up at him, exhaustion making my voice brittle. “Then I’ll collapse here.”

He smiled faintly, the same gentle, coaxing smile that used to melt me. “Lyla… I hate seeing you like this.”

His hand moved to my cheek, thumb brushing away a strand of hair. It was a tender gesture, one I used to lean into. But tonight it felt wrong. 

“I’m fine,” I said quickly.

He frowned. “You’re shaking.”

I turned my head away. “Please, Damon. Not now.”

For a moment, his hand lingered in the air, suspended between affection and frustration. Then he withdrew it slowly, his jaw tightening. “Fine,” he said quietly. “But don’t shut me out.”

I didn’t respond. He sighed, rose, and left without another word.

When the door closed behind him, I let out a trembling breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.



The night grew colder.
Rowan’s fever worsened.

I wiped his forehead again and again, whispering words that made no sense, promises to gods I didn’t believe in, pleas I didn’t have the strength to voice aloud.

Somewhere beyond the door, I heard low voices. Dalia’s sharp tone. Damon’s quieter one. They were arguing or whispering. The sound tugged at something in my chest, a faint, growing dread.

I hesitated, glanced back at Rowan, then slipped quietly toward the door.

The corridor was dim, lit only by torches. Their voices came from the next hall, muffled but distinct. I pressed my back to the wall, barely daring to breathe.

“…wasn’t supposed to go that far,” Damon was saying. His voice was tight. “You said it would only slow him down.”

“It was supposed to,” Dalia hissed. “The dosage was right. He wasn’t supposed to...”
A pause. “You didn’t mix it wrong, did you?”

“I did exactly what you said,” he snapped back, lower now. “But the poison must’ve been stronger. You said it was from the Shadowroot stores, how old was it?”

“Old enough to work,” she said. “We needed him weak, Damon. Just weak enough for Kaiden to win.”

My breath caught.

I pressed a hand over my mouth to keep from gasping. My heart slammed against my ribs so loudly I was sure they’d hear it.

Damon’s next words were softer, regretful. “You could have killed him.”

“Oh please,” Dalia muttered. “He’s alive. And you should be thanking me. Once he’s too frail to lead, you’ll be next in command. We both get what we want.”

A silence. Then Damon’s voice again, lower now, heavy. “That’s not what I wanted.”

“Isn’t it?” she said sweetly. “Don’t tell me your little crush on the baker girl is getting in the way of common sense.”

My stomach twisted.

“You think she’ll ever forgive you?” Dalia continued, her voice like a knife wrapped in silk. “When she finds out it was you who helped poison her precious Alpha?”

Damon didn’t answer.

Dalia’s heels clicked against the stone as she walked away. The faint scent of her perfume faded with her.

Damon remained still for a long moment. Then he cursed under his breath and slammed his fist against the wall. The sound echoed down the corridor, startling me back into motion.

I fled before he could turn.

Back in Rowan’s room, my hands shook so badly I almost dropped the water bowl. He was still unconscious, his breathing shallow. The black veins on his shoulder pulsed faintly beneath the skin.

I sank into the chair beside him, my heart racing. The truth spun around me like a storm.
Damon. Dalia. The poison.
He didn’t even know.

“Rowan,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “They tried to kill you.”

His hand twitched faintly, as if in answer.

Tears stung my eyes. I reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. “I’ll protect you,” I whispered. “I promise. No one’s going to hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”

For a moment, I thought I imagined it, but his fingers moved, brushing weakly against mine. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dazed. His voice was a rasp.

“Lyla…”

I leaned forward, choking back a sob. “You’re safe. Don’t talk. Just rest.”

He blinked slowly, confusion flickering in his gaze. “Where… Kaiden…?”

“Gone,” I said softly. “You won.”

He tried to sit up, grimacing. “You… stayed.”

“Of course I did.”

His gaze softened, a faint, weary smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Always… too stubborn.”

“Sleep,” I whispered, brushing his hair back. “Please.”

His hand tightened faintly around mine before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the man who had fought for me, nearly died for me, poisoned by the people who pretended to love him. My chest ached with fury and fear and something I couldn’t name.

Footsteps echoed faintly down the hall again. Damon.

I straightened quickly, wiping my face, forcing calm into my features. When he entered, I met him with a soft, weary smile.

“How is he?” he asked quietly.

“Still weak,” I said. “The fever’s breaking.”

He stepped closer, his hand brushing my shoulder. “You’ve done enough for tonight. Let me take you to rest.”

I shook my head gently. “I’ll stay.”

“Lyla…” He sighed, his touch lingering. “You need strength too.”

“I’ll be fine.”

His thumb brushed along my arm, slow and deliberate. The old warmth in his eyes returned, but it made my stomach twist. I forced myself not to recoil. Not to let him see. Not yet.

“Get some rest when you can,” he said finally. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“I will,” I lied.

When he left, I let the mask crumble.

I turned back to Rowan, my voice shaking as I whispered, “They’ll never hurt you again. I swear it.”

Outside, thunder rolled low in the distance. The night was dark, but something colder loomed beyond it, the kind of silence that always comes before the storm.